Thursday, 20 December 2012

This Happens


O and when it happens there are none.
No, though everything as light covers
its hands over your
hair and skin.
Your dropped hands and eyes that do not go.
If only anything could move you but
the wind to sleep
and turning of the rope
that makes
a racket and a nuisance
on the floor above.
No even death does not come
no, not even
and when it happens
this is to be expected
when with the falling of the reason
the hands go.

St-Lambert, circa 1982.

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